


Letting go

by Just_A_Sea_Lion



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Ayaya's cinematic universe, BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rekkles is secretly a sub, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, with a tiny bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_Sea_Lion/pseuds/Just_A_Sea_Lion
Summary: *Pwp set in the universe of Piper_Ronnie's fic "Can't seem to let you go", don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.*Ever since Febiven left the team, Rekkles has been trying so hard to be the strong captain Fnatic needed. But when his ex-midlaner visits him in the Fnatic lounge after a game, he can't resist him for long. This is what happens when they go to Rekkles' hotel.
Relationships: Fabian "Febiven" Diepstraten/Martin "Rekkles" Larsson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Letting go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Piper_Ronnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper_Ronnie/gifts).



> Please, if you are one of the people depicted on this fic, or their family, or anyone who knows them, don't read this fic. This is purely a work of fiction and should be read as such.
> 
> This work is inspired by the great fanfiction Can't seem to let you go by Piper_Ronnie that you can find here :  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352188/chapters/53397871
> 
> This OS is set right after chapter 43, you can read it as a standalone but you'll miss a few references (but also this is pure filth so...). I really encourage you to go an read Piper_Ronnie's fic if you havn't yet, it's everything you ever wanted and some more. 
> 
> Piper also accepted to beta-read me, how cool is that ! She really is the best. 
> 
> That said, English is not my first language so if you see any mistake that escaped us don't hesitate to tell me in the comments !

The cab drive was almost unbearable. Rekkles felt himself flinch under Febiven’s gaze, more self-conscious about his body than he had been in years. He desperately wanted to please, to be good for Febiven, to submit to him. The sexual tension between them was still incredibly high, and the way the midlaner’s hand was casually resting on his thigh wasn’t helping. Actually, there was nothing casual about how his thumb was rubbing against the fabric of his pants, going higher and higher until it was almost at his crotch. It shouldn’t have been so hard to swallow a whimper, but Martin _had_ missed this. 

Finally, after Martin had almost drawn blood from biting his lips, they arrived at the hotel. As soon as he opened the bedroom’s door, Fabian pushed him against the wall to kiss him aggressively.  
Feeling how much the other man wanted him, Rekkles couldn’t help himself:  
“Not so in charge of your dick anymore, are you?”  
He regretted it almost instantly when he saw something dangerous in the other’s eyes.  
“You’ve really become too bratty for your own good, Martin. Being a team captain and topping these twinks went to your head. It’s about time that someone puts you back in your place. Bring out the toys.”  
Perfectly knowing that refusing to obey would only make things worse, he fetched the box in his wardrobe and put it in front of the midlaner.  
“Remember your safe word?”  
When he asked that, he dropped the stern tone a bit, looking into Rekkles’ eyes. The unspoken rule was untouched, the same that a few years ago: you can stop at any moment. I won’t be mad. I won’t be disappointed. I’ll be there for you.  
At this moment, when he mumbled his safe word to show he still remembered it (“Thorin”, ew) he felt like his last barrier broke, he felt light, like his brain finally had been freed of any pressure as soon as he had given all the keys to the man in front of him. This is so good, he thought dizzily, how could I stop for so long.  
“So Martin, you need a bit of punishment for running your tongue so much in the past hour.”  
Martin automatically fell on his knees with a distant part of him marvelling at his muscle memory. 

While he was waiting, Fabian rummaged through his supplies, finding a small paddle. He sat on the bed and gestured Martin to come lay across his knees. Martin, who was following him with his eyes the whole time, got up immediately to position himself. When he felt Fabian remove his pants, then his underwear, he shivered, both with fear and anticipation.  
“Oh, you like that don’t you? Is that why you behaved like a brat earlier? To get my attention?”  
Martin felt his pride rise in him and looked at the other indignantly, opening his mouth to tell him that he was not the centre of the world, but he soon realised that he was in no position to get angry when he felt a hand smack his bare ass with force.  
“Behave.”  
Martin let his head fall back on the bed face first, biting back a moan. This really shouldn’t turn him on so much – right?  
“I’m going to give you ten with the paddle. And you are going to count them. Understood?”  
“Yes Fabian”  
They never bothered to use titles like “master” or “sir” in their scenes. They didn’t need them to know where they stood and, according to Fabian, it had always been thrilling to hear Rekkles say his name innocently at breakfast in front of the others after hearing him whimpering it the night before.  
Lost in the memories, Martin was surprise by the first blow, but he counted:  
“O-one”  
He felt the burn on his right cheek. _Oh God._ He had forgotten how much he liked pain.  
By the sixth, Rekkles was a mess, moaning and whimpering in the sheets, barely able to count. He still managed to say “seven” in a voice he didn’t recognize.  
By the tenth, he was rock hard again, desperately humping Fabian’s leg, both relishing the pain and wanting to get to the orgasm-inducing part of the night.  
Fabian put down the paddle and commented:  
“What a performance Rekky… if only your little boyfriends could see you like this…”  
Martin’s felt his face heating, as if he suddenly realised how wrecked he looked, how wrecked he was. Helpless, totally at the other man’s mercy.  
“What do you want now?” the midlaner said  
“You… inside me… please.”  
Since this moment in the Fnatic lounge where he had put his own fingers in his ass he had wanted more. He wanted to be filled again, and not by a toy like he had been for the last years when he played by himself. He wanted to be topped. To be held, to be punished. To be someone’s property again. No need to think. No need to be in command. Only the blissful haze of obedience.  


Fabian manhandled him on the bed, making sure to grab Martin’s sensitive ass, emitting a satisfied grunt as the other guy winced in pain.  
“Well, how am I going to take you…”  
Rekkles waited, not daring to answer, concentrating all his willpower on not touching himself, even if he craved it so much, knowing that if he gave in, he would just risk not coming at all tonight. And he wanted to come - oh God, he wanted to come.  
After thirty seconds of sweet torture, thirty seconds that felt like an eternity, Fabian grabbed handcuffs and attached the ADC’s hands to the headboard with his knees on the mattress so that he had a splendid view on his lover’ reddened ass.  
“I could leave you like this… Let the hotel staff find you. Or maybe the other team members would worry and come check on you? That would be a sight for them, their captain in such a compromising position. Do you think they would still take you seriously after that?”  
Rekkles could feel the humiliation washing over him as he imagined his teammates finding him. He’d just have to resign and become a hermit or something. He would never be able to look them in the eye again. But at the same time, hearing the words coming from Febiven was incredibly arousing. He moaned, pressing his forehead against the headboard.  
“I should have known you would like the idea. You’re such a slut. You pretend to be this strong captain who lifts weights at the gym with his macho tattoos and everything, but all you want is to get fucked in the most degrading way.”  
While talking, he started circling the ADC’s hole with lube-coated fingers, making him lose his mind. He was moaning and pressing up against the fingers, trying to get what he wanted, but the midlaner was having none of it.  
“Use your words, Rekkles, you need to ask when you want something.”  
In some part of his mind, Martin knew that the other man liked to use his player name in bed because it liked to be the one who dominated _the_ Rekkles, but he was absolutely in no condition to make a snarky comment about the other’s in-game performances. Instead, he said:  
“Please Fabian, please fuck me. I want it. I need it, please, please…”  


Fabian pushed two fingers, curling them upwards while the other kept asking for more, more, please more. The midlaner’s fingers felt wonderful and not enough at the same time, brushing against his prostate without giving him the relief he was seeking. He almost didn’t register the sound of the condom being unwrapped and the midlaner rolling it on his length, too busy pushing against his hand, trying to get more. The pain caused by the handcuffs was just enough to keep him anchored but was doing nothing to calm the fire in his groin.  
Finally, as Martin had been reduced to a babbling mess, Fabian pushed into him with a grunt and began thrusting, not waiting for him to adjust for a second. Martin relished in the punishing pace set by the other man, moaning loudly when he angled himself just right.  
Martin knew he was going to feel it for days, and at this moment that thought was only increasing his pleasure. He could already picture himself at the game against Schalke the next evening, sitting in the gaming chair that was going to be way too uncomfortable for his sore ass, the pain being an ever-present reminder of the night before. Good thing it was only Schalke.  
Not long after, the ADC was talking again.  
“What was that?”  
“Please, please touch me. Please I want to come. Please…” He was almost sobbing at this point, his last shred of dignity vanishing with the unholy sounds he was making.  
“Sure you can come, _babe_. But you’ll have to do it yourself.”  
Martin pulled desperately against the handcuffs, unable to find words to explain what the other knew perfectly.  
“Oh no Martin. Little sluts don’t get to be touched. Little sluts have to work for it.”  
Not letting the other answer, Fabian grabbed a pillow and put it between the ADC’s legs. Realising that he won’t have anything more than that, Rekkles started to rub against the pillow, both incredibly embarrassed and incredibly turned on by the other’s appreciative grunts.  
“What a sight… the great Rekkles, reduced to humping the bed. So needy, you really can’t help it, can you? You want to come so badly that you’re ready to abandon all pretence of self-respect?”  
Those were all rhetorical questions, so Martin didn’t bother answering and kept chasing his orgasm instead, whimpering at every thrust against his prostate, and he was not getting nearly enough friction, so he soon was begging again.  
“Please, please I need you, I can’t come without you, please touch me, I’m begging you Fabian, aah Fabian, Fabian only you can give it to me, please, please, please, please…!”  
He didn’t even know what he was saying, it felt like unorganized strings of words just kept coming out of his mouth as he was feeling more and more overwhelmed by the sensations.  
Finally, finally the midlaner grabbed his cock and gave him one, two, three strokes and Martin was coming, shouting at his long-awaited release.  
“A single touch and you’re coming like a teenager… Man, I really missed this, you eager little thing.”

But with all his teasing, Fabian bit his lips to muffle his sounds as he chased his own pleasure, exhaling loudly as he came harder than he had come in years. He wasn’t lying when he said he had missed this. He had never met anyone who took it as well as Martin did. He breathed heavily, needing all his willpower to not collapse on the other. 

Gently, with his behaviour contradicting his words, he slipped out of the other man, threw the condom in the bin and unbuckled the handcuffs. Martin, thoroughly fucked out, was pliant against him, and Febiven arranged the pillows (fortunately, the hotel room had enough pillows so that he could discard the one they used earlier) to rest the ADC’s head against them. When Martin was comfortable, he petted his hair gently, watching him lean against his touch. Fabian felt a pinch in his heart as he realised that being taken care of was also not a recurring situation for the Fnatic captain.  
Martin feebly protested when he stopped his ministrations, but Fabian murmured sweet words of reassurance and soon came back with a glass of water, holding it at the other’s lips while he drank. Martin fell asleep soon after, happily cuddling in the arms of the slightly concerned midlaner, who was wondering how touch-starved his lover had been in the last few years.  
“It’s ok”, he heard himself say, knowing that the other couldn’t hear him, “you’re ok, I’m here, I’ll hold you. Sleep well.”

**Author's Note:**

> The safe word was found by celaena29 and it's such a great idea, thank you !
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed this !  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
